Silent Nightingale
by Nezkov Sou
Summary: KI. Four ninjas went for a mission. Three men and one body returned. Iruka didn't understand why he wasn't allowed to identify the body, didn't understand why Kakashi could be so cold-hearted and kill his comrade.


**Silent Nightingale**

**By Nezkov Sou**

**Story based on Silent Night I and II on deviantArt. Links can be found in my page. I am also the artist behind them.**

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><p><em><strong>Preface<strong>_

_The nightingale's existence revolves solely around its ability to sing._

_The meaning of its name._

_And its freedom to express itself._

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><p>Full moon partly hidden behind thin clouds. Inky black sky without stars. Ghastly winds howled through the opened window, blowing the white curtains, flowed gently, and thick like blood. There was no silence, no peace of mind, no one, nothing. Even inside the body crouched on the bed, knees drawn to the chest like a fetus. Dark brown hair pulled up in a high pony-tail and black eyes looking distant. The dim light from the moon accentuated the thin scar running across his nose, the caramel skin appearing a shade paler. His mind was blank, empty, void of any emotions. The day had been bleak, with rain greeting the morning. And now despair clouded his night.<p>

Glancing at the window, his eyes met with the silhouette of Hatake Kakashi perched on the windowsill, hand raised in greeting, mask and forehead protector in place, jounin outfit slightly dirtied from his previous mission. Yes, his previous mission. It had been a mere A-rank mission to retrieve a stolen scroll from a neighboring country. Kakashi was supposed to be doing it alone, but the Hokage insisted that he showed a demonstration for the newly-appointed jounins and thus, they went as a group of four. Something so simple, ended with something so disastrous.

Iruka closed his eyes, drawing in a shuddering breath, listening to the wind wailing its sorrow. Then he opened his eyes. Kakashi was not there. Of course he wouldn't be there. What reasons would he have to see Iruka again?

Iruka buried his face behind his knees, squeezing his arm around them. He should be in control of himself. He should not let personal emotion bring him down. It was the very basic of a ninja, the 25th clause: 'A ninja must not show any emotion in any situation. A ninja must put the mission first and must have a heart that will allow him not to cry.'

How shameful of him. He was the most notable of the academy teachers and yet here he was, crying inside where his chest throbbed with a stinging pain. Of course he understood what it was and no matter how much he forced himself to deny it, the thoughts always came crashing down at him. Careless words spat out from rage, argument ensued. One very pointless argument. One which Iruka knew he should not blame Kakashi. No one was to blame. Kakashi had tried to explain in a calm tone, but being stubborn and fueled by the sudden loss of someone so close to him blinded Iruka. He had jerked away from Kakashi, accused him of everything that had went completely wrong and said those three unforgivable words.

_I hate you._

And even through the tears that hazed his eyes, Iruka could perfectly see the pained expression on the jounin's exposed face. Promises broken, trust broken, relationship broken. Everything between them was broken by Iruka's spiteful words. Remembering those eyes made Iruka sick with himself. Kakashi honestly appeared as if he would cry.

_I'm the one who wants to cry. _Iruka clenched his fists. He had been stupid. He should not have lost his cool. It was over. There was no turning back. But so much, oh so much, Iruka wanted to take back his words. His loss was irreplaceable. Akito had been such a good friend ever since they were little. That hot-headed punk was his best friend. Iruka's best friend, and perhaps his only true friend who knew what was behind his mask of laughter. They had spent their childhood together, pulling pranks and getting themselves into trouble. During their genin years, they were in the same team, mischief still up their sleeves. When they became chuunins, Iruka took the post of a teacher and worked in the mission room while Akito ran out of the village performing missions in different teams. Iruka made new friends, so did Akito. Yet they remained the best of friends. Nothing could tear them apart.

Except death.

In the form of Hatake Kakashi.

How did it happen? Was Akito suffering during his time? Or was it a swift kill? A kunai? Or perhaps the famous raikiri? Iruka had not been allowed to see the body brought back to Konoha this evening. _Why? _His shoulders shook. _Why Kakashi? Why do you have to take away my best friend? What did he do to you?_

Kakashi honestly appeared as if he would cry.

That face showed no lies. None. Iruka knew Kakashi. They had gone pass formalities, had gone pass friends. They were lovers. The fact that Kakashi was the one who killed Akito did not change. But deep inside, Iruka could not resent Kakashi the slightest bit.

"I'm sorry" he whispered. To whom exactly, even Iruka did not know.

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><p>"Iruka-sensei?" Kakashi pushed back the flowing curtains and let himself in through the window. One steel grey eye glanced around the dark room. Nothing out of the ordinary. Iruka was not anywhere. Somehow, it felt empty. Like a shell. And when the wind howled, he could almost hear the echoes. Slowly, he crossed the room, passing the cabinet where a vase of wilted purple stock flower stood. For a moment, Kakashi stared at the dead plant with what seemed boredom. In the language of flowers, the stock meant 'Bonds of Affection'.<p>

Did Iruka even realize that his flowers had died? Just like the bonds between him and Akito? Or was it the bond between him and Kakashi?

Sitting beside the simple vase was a photograph Kakashi did not remember taking. In the picture, he was reading his _Icha Icha Paradise_, unaware of the camera. Iruka on the other hand, looked flustered and had tried to block out the cameraman using his hand. So why indeed did he keep this poorly-taken picture? Brushing aside the thought, Kakashi strode to the door and out of the room. Such trivial matter was none of his concern.

The rest of the house was also concealed in darkness except for the kitchen and that was where Kakashi soon found himself in. Standing rooted at the entrance, he glanced at the steaming mug of tea on the counter, almost full but perhaps a sip or two had been taken from. Almost lazily, his eye drifted to the kettle on the stove which had thankfully been switched off, though a string of steam trailed out of the nose of the kettle. Beside the stove, on the sink, a dishcloth had been haphazardly thrown at its place. What was going on? Was someone here? Then where was Iruka? Why did he leave in a hurry? On his own accord . . .? Even the tap was not shut properly. That single water droplet, hanging on the brim of the metal faucet. And broke apart did it.

His senses caught up to him and in one swift movement, Kakashi whirled around and blocked the kunai with the metal piece of his left glove. How did he not sense the assaulter this close to him? So preoccupied was he with Iruka . . .

Kakashi's eye widened when in that close distance, he took notice of the attacker. Hair loose from its usual ponytail and eyes wide to reflect the same surprise. Kakashi immediately drew back and pulled down his mask, putting up a hand in between them. "Iruka-sensei, please wait a moment!"

Quiet as the darkness looming behind him, Iruka remain transfixed, the lethal weapon held loosely in front of him.

"Please hear me out. I understand it was too sudden and all, I mean this evening." Kakashi pointed out, trying to bring his words out with difficulty. How was he going to explain without making Iruka burst out again? "I think you misunderstood something. During the mission, we didn't expect a band of high-class rouges to attack and I do believe that you haven't heard it from the Hokage. You see –"

"Shut up."

Kakashi stopped instantly, the kunai pointed at him once again.

"I don't want to hear anything from you, less I cut your throat." Iruka whispered in a hushed tone, hostility lying underneath.

Kakashi remained silent, watching the usually kind-hearted loving teacher turning into a deadly ninja.

"What happened during the mission doesn't matter. Rouge attacks aren't uncommon and jounins like you should be able to defeat them if not easily. You went as a team of four, yet you returned with three and one body. One body that is taken under strict examination which even I, his best friend, couldn't go and at least identify. We were so close . . . we were mistaken as brothers." Tears began to pool at the corner of Iruka's eyes, "He was like a part of my family. A family that I never had, and a family that I will never have. And _you _had to take him away. You said that comrades are more important than the mission itself, which goes against the rule of the ninja. But look at you now. You went against your own words. Even though you barely knew him and it was your first time teaming up with him, he _was _your comrade. You're a hypocrite. I don't want to hear your words any longer." So frustrated was he that he did not even think twice of the venomous words he was spilling. So blinded was he by the overpowering loss that he had forgotten all rationality and senses.

A warm hand touched Iruka's and Kakashi stepped forward, bringing the sharp point of the kunai closer to his neck. Locking gazes with the chuunin, he said: "Aim it right here."

Iruka blinked, caught off guard and unable to say anything at Kakashi's reckless move. The grey eye and straight tone told him that Kakashi was serious.

"What happened then was unavoidable," Kakashi spoke in a calm, solemn tone, "I would have easily dispatched the rouges but Akito had to get in the way. I admit that he is talented and a good ninja, but I also understand that he is excited for his first mission as a jounin. He ignored my orders to stay back and due to sheer adrenaline, he was careless, made mistakes and was caught under the enemy's technique."

Iruka stayed wordless, the tears stinging his eyes so badly it hurt more than the last time he was stabbed by enemy weapons. Mission details were not allowed to be told to anyone even when it was accomplished. The ninja codes forbid such acts.

"It's not an illusion, it's a forbidden technique where the user attached his chakra into the victim's blood and controlled the body from the inside out. You won't believe me, Iruka, but it was horrible. Akito was in great pain. The chakra had taken control of his heart and the only way to stop it was . . ." Kakashi paused. The reason why the Hokage refused to let Iruka into this case was apparent now. She knew that he would have such a reaction.

The kunai slipped out of Iruka's hand.

"I made it swift. He felt nothing of it."

A tear rolled down the side of Iruka's face.

The kunai hit the floor with a clatter.

"I'm glad," Iruka sobbed, the tears now flowing freely, "I'm glad that he wasn't suffering."

_The 25__th__ clause: 'A ninja must not show any emotion in any situation. A ninja must put the mission first and must have a heart that will allow him not to cry.'_

"Oh, Kakashi, I . . ." Iruka threw himself onto the jounin, crying into his shoulder, not caring that he was a grown man, not caring that he was a ninja. He wanted to set free the pain and let the emotions out. "I'm sorry."

"Shh, don't say anymore Iruka." Kakashi held the younger man close to him, "Cry, just cry if you wish to."

It must have been raikiri. Yeah, it must be. One quick strike especially for clean assassination. Akito must not have realized what was coming and he never will. That lucky bastard. Always grinning like the idiot he was, getting his ass into trouble for the sake of it. They had always been in it together sharing the punishment equally. But this time, Iruka was the only one to suffer the loss of someone dear to him, the many losses over the years. Another one wouldn't make a difference, right? Thank God Akito need not suffer them. It was alright as long as Iruka shouldered the burden himself.

His grip on the jounin vest tightened.

_Thank you Kakashi._

The night passed by in silence.

One man, finally free of his torturing pain.

Nagano Akito.

One man, finally free of his unanswered doubts.

Hatake Kakashi.

One man, finally . . . finally free of his freedom.

Umino Iruka.

Just like a silent nightingale.

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><p><em><strong>Postscript<strong>_

_Although it spreads its wings,_

_And welcome the freedom of the world,_

_Without its voice, the nightingale has no existence._


End file.
